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The Construct
The Construct is a collection of designs for and notes on swordsmithing. Begun by Darius Anvilmar, his work is continued by his son Baelthane. Notably, Bal'Thoraj was conceived and forged from the contents of this book. ((All of the text to follow was written by Baelthane.)) Physical Description The journal appears to be in its final days of usage. Soot and grime are permanently encrusted in the hardback material, giving the leather that covers it a dark brown and black appearance. A strap with a small lock hangs loose, broken. The spine is held together only by thin strips of leather; tied off prematurely, as if the creator was rushed. Pages are folded, ripped out, and sitting loosely in the indents of the spine. A seal depicting an ornate anvil and a hammer in the negative space is indented on the cover with the word "ANVILMAR" indented underneath. This has obviously been done by a well crafted press. Above this is an unevenly indented title that reads: "The Construct" A letter is protruding from the middle of the book, sealed with red wax, in the shape of a hammer. The Letter Baelthane, my son, Attached with this letter is my personal journal. This collection of designs, this construct, I have prepared for you." You have become a skilled blacksmith, and at such a young age. You have excelled my expectations. Though you craft with only the scraps of my work, you have created weapons worthy of a knight's sheath. You have already brought honor to the Anvilmar name, and I am extraordinarily proud. While I have crafted blades of my own, I have designed quite a bit more in the growing time I have off of the battlefield. While I wish to see them come off of the page, my hands grow old, and my mind has lost its tenacity. My designs are sent off to an unknown face who puts my thoughts into steel; as my ambitious designs outweigh my personal capabilities. But... These weapons are the ripened fruits of my growing years, reserved for your eyes, and only your eyes. They keep me focused, despite my faltering skill. I am unable to craft them myself, and so I leave them with you. Though you haven't decided upon your future, your mother and I see greater things for you than our little forge in the forest. You have grown strong, both physically, and mentally. I have no doubt that these designs, though riddles in themselves, will suit your already exceptional skills. Regardless of the path you follow, someday, I know you will become a figure of legend. Whether it be by wielding the sword that slays the corrupt, or in the making of the blade that does so. The Anvilmar name will live on, my child. Perhaps not with my deeds, but with yours. I hope this journal finds you and your mother in good spirits. I am allowed to send so little back to the Eastern Kingdoms. Northrend is such a vile, quiet place. I long for the embrace of our people, and the warmth of our forge. This is my final letter. Our assault on Icecrown has finally grown to its climax. We march for the Wrathgate, a kind of "back entrance" to the horrors of the citadel. While I may not be battling next to my brothers and sisters in arms, I shall be on the sidelines, crafting the little metal we have into fine weapons, as you have taught me to. Our will is iron, our fortitude is steel. Remember this, my son. - Darius J. Anvilmar The Construct A collection of my greatest designs and inquiries - with the occasional visit from superstition. (Darius Anvilmar) Midnight's Edge Many nights I have looked to the skies and wondered; what lies beyond the edge of midnight? What lies beyond the twisting nether? What lies beyond everything? Perhaps, a creator? A tyrant? This blade characterizes mystery, and the power that such mysteries hold over the minds of the curious. We fear what we do not know. This blade requires a significant amount of Khorium in order for it to be created in my correct vision. It is unique in that the ore itself is not desirable, but the rocks that surround it. Khorium possesses the ability to strengthen the earth nearest to it by releasing small amounts of runic energy. As you can imagine, rock that has been aged correctly may be extremely difficult to find. Why rock, you say? Because rocks this strong never grow dull, nor does this strong of a material shatter. I wish I had possessed a blade like this when I was dealing with a runic dwarf incursion in the Storm Peaks. The large gem I have scribbled onto this sketch is beyond me. While the blade itself is fairly simple to craft once the specific materials are collected, this particular piece will pose a worthy task. I find myself fascinated with runes and the magic of empowered jewels, though I attempt to make blades that fight for themselves. Should you wish to dive into the realm of crafted magics, seek out my companion in the Blackrock Mountain. I dare not put her name on paper, in the event that this journal is compromised, as she is the only individual I know with gems strong enough to serve as a vessel of great power, let alone a sturdy hilt. Unfortunately, her prices are rarely monetary, and are consistently daunting. Beware the means of her bargains, my son. Should you complete this blade in it's full design, it will (hopefully) grant you the ability to slip between enemies undetected...swift as the ominous night. Should you write this off as an enchanter's blade, unfit for a warrior's touch, don't fret. This is only a mere piece of rock in my never-ending arsenal. Bane of the Val'kyr Have you heard the legends of the Vrykul, my son? They are, for lack of a better word, monstrous. These battle-born men and women stand at a height double, if not triple that of our foot soldiers. They wield daggers the size broadswords, and halberds nearly the size of a ship’s mast. They are spawns of the giants that roamed these lands before the titans of old deemed them unfit for their perfect creation. They were a formidable adversary, but not nearly an impossible one to cut down. My studies of the blade soon turned into studies of the Vrykul themselves. Their bone structure, their fighting habits, their weak points. All of this became relevant when crafting a weapon that would give us an advantage. As I expected, every time I crafted a blade that succeeded against these beasts, the Vrykul smiths returned with something far more terrible, born of the enormous forges within the keep. This was not a battle of soldiers, but a battle of smiths. I digress from my storytelling. What matters to you are these twinblades, which I have fittingly titled “Bane of the Val’Kyr.” Fearsome blades of blackened metal, crafted not to stab into the flesh of the lesser, but to hack at the bones of the monstrous. Though I would discourage you from using pure rage in battle, anger was what allowed us as an Alliance to succeed against these beasts. There was no tactic in the siege of Utgarde. The champions from Outland charged in blindly, and emerged at the pinnacle with King Ymiron’s head. A spectacle of what anger mixed with ambition can accomplish. ((This next section has been scribbled out by Baelthane in charcoal, though you can faintly read the following)) When your foe battles without thoughts of morality, you can choose to fight on your own playing field, in which you would lose, or, you can briefly descend to their level to deliver justice to the monsters that plague our lands. ((The rest of the text continues as normal.)) Pure titanium from the frozen rocks of Northrend is what you require. Saronite, while extremely abundant, isn't a reasonable metal to work with. Not to mention my preliminary distaste that it's the choice metal of the Scourge." Titanium ore itself is incredibly rare. I would expect a week or so committed to finding the amount you deem fit to make the blade. Since titanium is such a strong material, its melting point, as you can imagine, is excelled above other metals. The only forge I can think of that’s capable of smelting pure titanium into these twin blades would be that of the very beings that called for their creation. The Vrykul have in their possession an enormous forge at the base of Utgarde Keep. It puts out an exceptional amount of heat, but be wary, the Vrykul still lurk in the catacombs of the structure, planning to retake their once grand castle. Even in defeat, they fight with spirit and vigor.” Unnamed Design A distraction. That's all that this innocent "journal" has become. I find myself always inspecting the crude pages when I have a moment to myself, and when the book isn't in my possession, I think of what designs I shall study when it is. It has become a vessel of my creativity. An outlet that should not be fed so vigorously. Today, during an Easterly moving patrol of the Duchy of Ashfall, I halted my entire group simply because I was distracted by father's designs, his passion, and his seemingly volatile rage. I wasn't paying attention to the task at hand, but rather, the tasks that my heart and mind both desired to complete in the same instant. Furthermore, I fight like a foolish barbarian. Striking before thinking, and paying for my actions in the following moments. When I do find my mark, I kill with a brutality that reflects that of the Horde; a grotesque display of misplaced power. Do my close allies notice? Do they think less of me? I am to learn the chivalric qualities of a knight before I am entered into knighthood, but how can I balance my need for father's work (including his own peculiarities with rage) with my need for emotional balance? Father may be able to influence my work as a blacksmith in his absence, but without him, how am I to craft myself into a man suitable for knighthood? So many questions, and so few of them are answered by this book. Not even the greatest works of Darius Anvilmar can replace the time that his son never had with him. I'm considering sending an apology to my Lord, Jeremaias Auromere. My position as his squire is more fragile than I realize. Perhaps I can hide this instability with combat performance, but for how long? ((There are many black dots on the page, as if Baelthane was tapping his charcoal pencil in deep thought.)) '' I'm writing like a paranoid fool. I haven't nearly finished reading father's construct, and yet, here I stand. Already making him out to be a product of rage, writing against him in the unfilled pages of his life's work. He would be ashamed. Perhaps reading this will be a journey for the both of us. Perhaps I can make him proud, even in death. ''((Below this insert lies a small sketch of a blade. This inkling of a design possesses influences from Night Elf culture in the shape of the ridge and lack of a fuller. Strangely, the drawing shows usage of two different styles of line work done with two seemingly different pencils. Most notably, the initials "IK" lie just below where the blade turns to hilt. A collaboration can be traced out based on these clues.)) Bal'Thoraj, the Blade of Three Stones A blade without its master is simply a blade. Likewise, a master without his blade is only an individual with a sense of blind ambition. The blade is the means to action, the master is the means to its delivery. I give you Bal’Thoraj, the thorn in my side, the bane of my existence, The Blade of Three Stones. I almost didn't include this little abomination of mine in this construct, as I would hardly consider it a true success. It's crude, less versatile, and bulkier than most. Not to mention, far too ornate to be considered an effective piece of weaponry. It’s a product of overzealous imagination. What stopped me from voiding this blade's existence was the inkling I conjured whilst reading a friend’s study on the mythic triad, the Stones of Blood. Yes, bloodstones. Each harnessing one of the three powers of a true warrior: ferocity, honor, and valor. By placing these stones in their assigned slots, as featured in the design below, this blade would help you harness these three graces in combat. Perhaps this power is only symbolic, but if you were to visit my acquaintance in the Blackrock Mountain (as mentioned in my design of Midnight's Edge), I’m sure she could assist you in further amplifying the ancient powers locked within. To the knowledge of my accomplice, the stones are lost at sea with the fearsome Blacksail Buccaneers. With an organized force, they would be hardly impossible to reclaim. My personal input: start at the crude shores of Silithus. Their operations have been growing there, and by the time you receive this journal, there’s a significant chance that their presence will pose a problem in itself. Perhaps, you could kill two birds with one stone? ((The stones sketched out and colored are placed in the following order: honor, valor, and ferocity.)) I almost forgot. The blade itself is crafted from steel, and infused with thorium for a more durable lifespan. These materials wouldn't be a major chore to collect, but it would take a short amount of time and a fair level of commitment. Should you feel up to the task, you could harvest the minerals yourself. If not, I would see a supplier within Stormwind's Dwarven District. Perhaps you could improve upon my design and produce something more effective. I would hardly mind. Best of luck, my boy! Send my best wishes to Caelia when you can. I look forward to returning home and possibly assisting you in crafting these weapons (if you haven't crafted them all and designed enough to fill a new journal in the time it takes me to do so). The sense of honor I feel in service pales in comparison to the honor I feel watching you grow into a man. Never forget where my true loyalty lies. Modification to Bal'Thoraj ((The following is written carefully, and with a great sense of emotion. As opposed to previous entries, this one was written on a fine piece of parchment (from the Knights of Ashfall office in Stormwind) and inserted into the book.)) Honor, valor, and ferocity. The stones we retrieved last night were said to represent these qualities of a knight. The stones stand for themselves, but can I dare say I represent those same principles? Perhaps not as a whole, but in part. Perfection is never achievable but I pray that the Light will forge a path for me. A path that leads to knowing the fine balance between blood and conscience. A path that doesn’t call for the soiling of innocence for personal gain. ((The writing stops abruptly, as if someone walked into the room interrupting him. It continues with the following details.)) ((With this entry is a fairly intricate design of another long blade with the addition of a circular shield (not pictured). The first stone, honor, is drawn into the center of it. Encased in a central capsule that utilizes veins within the plate to send energy throughout the shield.)) To protect one from falling to the habits of a knight’s disdain, one must put their code, their honor, before all things. Ferocity and valor pale in comparison to the light that honor shines for us. The addition of a shield to father’s design is a statement of my own. That protecting the honor of others should be the forefront of all struggle. The vanguard of my knighthood. Not blind rage, not ferocity, not a lack of complete discipline as father would encourage. So long as I wield these vessels of power in my hands, I shall remember the mistakes I have made, and strive to redeem myself; even if that redemption is farther than what I feel I can reach. The Light has forgiven me for what I failed to do. I have come up short yet again, father. Your guidance in this book has been notable insight to your character, but in your absence, I have found someone else to mold me into a man. Our will is iron, our fortitude is steel. But our sense of honor must be unbreakable. ((The symbolic cross of the Knights of Ashfall is sketched next to this, as a sort of signature.))Category:Books